Playing Games
by HopeCoppice
Summary: Vlad wants to do something normal. But they're not normal. Established B/V. Slash.


**For redrachxo and WerepuppyBlack. I told you guys I had a problem.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing referenced in this story is mine.**

"Come on, Bertrand, I just want to spend some time with you like a _normal_ teenager." Bertrand still wasn't convinced this was a good idea, but he knew how important normality was to Vlad. "Please? We can train extra tomorrow to make up for it..." The boy had to be desperate – they weren't even missing any training for this. How could he say no?  
"That won't be necessary." He sighed. "Let's do it, then."

Vlad grinned and began plugging an assortment of cables into the television he'd bought the moment he turned eighteen.  
"Brilliant! Put this in, will you?" Bertrand stared doubtfully at the cartridge that had just been thrust into his hands. _Super Mario Bros._ He still wasn't convinced.

* * *

Vlad had eventually taken pity on him, confiscating the game and slotting it into the console like bread into a toaster.  
"I'll do a level to show you the controls, then you try. OK?" Bertrand frowned.  
"I thought we were playing together." Vlad shrugged.  
"It was hard enough tracking down an original Nintendo with _one_ controller, finding another one would have been a nightmare." His tutor decided not to question his dedication to obtaining the oldest possible model – after all, vampires loved antiquities – and focused instead on trying to understand what on earth all the buttons did as Vlad manoeuvred the character on the screen through a veritable obstacle course of pits, enemies and assorted other death traps. All too soon, it was his turn.

"What? How- I _landed _on it, which by the way is a really inefficient way to kill things. Here we go again – what's that?" Vlad was gesturing at the screen.  
"That, jump on that."  
"No, I'm not picking flowers, Vlad-"  
"The flower gives you fireballs." Bertrand shot him an incredulous look that almost got his little character killed by yet another of the strange little furry creatures marching across the landscape, but jumped out of the way just in time and collected the flower.  
"How do I do fireballs, then?" Vlad reached across and pressed a button for him, Bertrand glancing down to note its position, and a little ball of flame bounced obligingly away from his character and wiped out the small furry thing. Bertrand smirked to himself. Perhaps this game could be tolerable, after all.  
"Watch out, you're going to-" Vlad's warning came too late; the fat little plumber fell down a seemingly bottomless pit and straight out of the bottom of the screen.

* * *

"That's it, jump as high as you can at the flagpole." Vlad seemed to be enjoying watching Bertrand struggle with the game, but he did as he was told and was rewarded with a little cutscene of his character hoisting a flag and bounding off to the right somewhere.  
"Well, that was bearable, I suppose," he said, holding the controller out to Vlad, but the boy refused to take it.  
"That was only level two... Keep playing. It'll grow on you."

A few levels later, Bertrand was beginning to get the hang of it. Next to the flagpole at the end of the level stood a little castle, and the character – Mario, Vlad reminded him – walked inside, only to find a dark place full of danger.  
"You're nearly there, you've got to battle Bowser at the end of the level."  
"This princess had better be worth it," his tutor grumbled, but he couldn't keep the satisfied smirk off his face as he successfully negotiated a particularly tricky obstacle.

* * *

_Your princess is in another castle._  
Bertrand stared at the screen for a moment, then threw the controller to the ground and stood.  
"What kind of a game is this?" Vlad, who'd been checking the controller for damage, scrambled to his feet.  
"It's just, well, it wouldn't be a very good game if you finished it that quickly, would it?" Bertrand snarled, fangs bared, whirling around to pace the room. "Bertrand? It's just a game..." He'd never seen his tutor so furious. The older vampire snatched up the controller once more, trying to get his avatar to stomp on the toadstool bearing the bad news as if he was just another enemy. The game wouldn't allow it. The controller dropped to the floor again.  
"Then what's the point? You can't win."  
"There are more levels, you just have to try more castles-"  
"Castle after castle, country after country, century after century. When does it all end? What if he never finds his precious princess?"

They stared at each other for a moment before the truth dawned on Vlad. It wasn't just a game, not to Bertrand. It was a game so eerily, horribly reminiscent of his own existence that it had caused something inside the tutor to snap, and Vlad didn't know how to fix it. Bertrand's wide, staring eyes didn't even seem to be focused on him, and a few more tense seconds ticked by before Vlad reached out and wrapped his fingers around his tutor's wrist. Bertrand's gaze snapped down to the point of contact between them, but he couldn't seem to shake off the anger at the cruel trick the game had played on him. Studying his expression carefully, Vlad realised there was pain in his eyes, too, and perhaps even the tiniest hint of fear.  
"Bertrand, I'm here. You found me, you did what you set out to do. Everything's alright." He carefully pulled Bertrand's arm forward, wrapping it around himself as he rested his head against the older vampire's chest. "I'm sorry I made you play the stupid game." Bertrand didn't move, and he stepped backwards, peering anxiously at his tutor's face.

* * *

Bertrand was lost, trapped in the well of emotions he'd suppressed for so many centuries, caught up in the feelings of disappointment and futility he'd endured for over three hundred and fifty years, until he'd found Vlad. Somehow, though, the thought of Vlad was slippery; his mind couldn't keep hold of it. He was back on his never-ending search, alone and exhausted, another mile on the road, another notch in his stake... and then there was a hand on his wrist, and Vlad was _there_, and he remembered that the book was gone. His entire quest had been futile anyway; it had almost got them all slain.

The Chosen One wrapped his arms around him and Bertrand stood like a stone. It _hadn't_ been pointless, he realised. If he hadn't spent all those years carrying the Big Bumper Book of Psychotic Vampire around, he never would have come to Garside, he never would have met Vlad, and he would have been alone forever. It hadn't seemed like such an appalling prospect, at one point, back when he had to slay almost everyone he ever met, but now he couldn't bear the thought of being without Vlad. The boy in question pulled back, staring up at him in concern, and Bertrand stared back, making a conscious effort to force back his fangs.

Suddenly, his lips were on Vlad's and they'd somehow travelled across the room until the boy was pressed against the wall, Bertrand dominating his mouth and gripping his arms tightly. Vlad gave as good as he got, fingers pressing into the older vampire's back as he clung to him. The familiar sensation of Vlad in his arms, of kissing him, reassured Bertrand in a way nothing else could, and when he finally drew back from the wall, allowing Vlad to move again, the feelings of terror and misery were gone.

* * *

It was midday when Vlad woke to hear scuffling noises in his room. He swung his coffin open cautiously and blinked a few times, the brightness of the television screen surprising his eyes in the darkened room.  
"Bertrand?" His tutor didn't look round, bouncing on a goomba and launching Mario across a gap between two platforms before the little plumber finally reached the end-of-level flagpole. "What are you doing?" The older vampire finally turned, fixing his lover with a gaze of startling intensity.  
"He deserves to get his princess, doesn't he?" Vlad nodded mutely, and Bertrand returned his attention to the game. "I didn't mean to wake you."  
Vlad watched him for a while, then climbed out of his coffin and knelt behind Bertrand, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on his shoulder to whisper.  
"He's a breather, you know." Bertrand arched his back as Vlad began trailing kisses down his neck.  
"It doesn't matter." He had to pause the game in a hurry as a triumphant Vlad jumped on him, and suddenly _Super Mario Bros_ didn't seem like such a waste of time after all.


End file.
